“Who are you?” The words sounded garbled as they escaped from my lips, but he seemed to understand. He raised one dark eyebrow in surprise.
“You can see me?” he asked, his voice deep and husky. I nodded, trying to give him my best “duh” look. Hard to do with tubes coming out of my orifices.
Around my age and good looking in a bad-boy-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks sort of way, he caused me to feel a little hot and bothered, and not just because he’d made himself at home in the middle of my hospital room. He smoldered with the kind of sexy I’d only seen in movies, and in the “Hunk of the Month” calendar I kept hidden in my desk drawer in my room. There was something strange about him, too, besides his obvious appeal. He looked oddly fuzzy around the edges, like a blurry photo taken when someone moves at just the wrong moment. Even as I squinted at him and tried really hard to focus, he never quite solidified, and the effort it took exhausted me.
It must be the drugs, I thought as I drifted off to sleep. A nice and very comforting idea, but completely wrong.
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Good luck to Wende and all our Golden Leaf finalists! Winners will be announced during the NJRW Put Your Heart in a Book Conference award ceremony on October 14, 2016.